


Conflicted Emotions

by Moribirb (Owlteria)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Elf/Human relationship, F/M, Game Lore, Masturbation, One Shot, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 04:18:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15964541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlteria/pseuds/Moribirb
Summary: Hiding on Ard Skellig from the Red Riders, Avallac'h decides for a quick visit to his secret laboratory to retrieve medicine for Cirilla. He gets distracted by a portrait of her...





	Conflicted Emotions

**Author's Note:**

> Written piece to practice smut and my English (not my native language). I'm sorry for any mistakes, feel free to point them out but please be nice. Have a good read!

All of it didn't matter anymore. The decades which had passed by, the years he spent with dedication to study the divine power of the Hen Ichaer, Lara Dorren's blood, turned out as nothing more than a shadow of the past that was still haunting him into the present.

After all these centuries the thoughts of her were starting to fade - in a shockingly quick pace. Probably even more so because Avallac'h had a hard time to keep them in his heart. Lara’s memories slipped from his grasp like fine sand running through his fingers. He tried to numb the pain, to forget the unshed tears, desperate to preserve the good times they had together centuries ago before everything fell apart. His betrothed decided to abandon him for a human, betray him and the Elder folk for the sake of her own selfish interests. Her attempt to unite human and elves in peace ended up in a tragedy. For him, for her, for the world of the Aen Elle, his home. His home that now stood on the edge of despair and destruction, a lost land threatened by the white frost. A world that was supposed to be saved by their love.

Avallac'h knew he couldn't stay long here, as he had to return to Cirilla on Spikeroog as soon as possible. She got a fever after they escaped the Red Riders once more and had both arrived on Ard Skellig, forced to flee and hide in a cave far away from human civilization, soaked and wounded.

Carefully he opened a shelf under his desk and rummaged through a big staple of papers, notes and old books in search for a recipe of a very specific elven potion against headaches and fever.

Instead he found two of Cirilla's portraits he had drawn some time ago. The old paper was still holding the charcoal, displaying the beautiful face of the young swallow who shared so many traits with Lara Dorren and yet they were both so different in their own ways. Avallac'h stopped comparing them when he realized Cirilla was indeed too much of a human, too far away from the real Lara he used to love so much.

Avallac'h smiled at the thought of the swallow's bubbly but sharp nature when she made one sarcastic comment after another and the look of her small, round ears behind those ashy strands of hair; one of her features he started to adore for some unknown reason.

His sharp eyes were staring into the bright candle light and back to the portrait as his body slowly relaxed into the wooden chair when he leaned back, observing the drawn picture. His fellow She-elf had appeared in his laboratory a few weeks ago through a portal he had stabilized in a small cave near the coast of Undvik, completely unexpected and Avallac'h was overwhelmed by her sudden visit. She came right from Tir na Lia, probably sent out by the higher up’s of the government to spy on him and to gain information about the progress of working with the Elder Blood. She was going in and out of his hideout on a regular basis pretending to have concerns for him, yet she reminded him of a patrolling shield maiden of Kaer Trolde much to Avallac’h’s repulsion.

He didn't expect her to follow him to his private place on Skellige. It was a sign that the righteous government in Tir na Lia probably didn’t trust him anymore. The elf woman despised the world of the Aen Seidhe because of all the humans residing on it. She preferred to stay in Tir na Lia, so her visit did mean there was something going on in the elven capital. Or perhaps she really went here for personal concerns, since she had admired him for many years. Avallac'h's laboratory had been a private chamber for quite a few decades and she told him she wished to have a more tasteful place to spend time with him, yet she was a clingy, passionate and a very jealous elven woman who waited for a proper date with him since they both met in Tir na Lia around two centuries ago. She used to be a friend of Lara Dorren.

Avallac’h told her he wouldn't have time for her and that he wasn't particularly interested in a romance, that he rather wanted to spend years with his research than dating elven women because Cirilla had first priority. She never quite understood his concern on a personal level, tried to pull him away from his obsession with Cirilla and Lara which continued even years, decades, after her death - to no effect.

_Cirilla here, Cirilla there! Whatever it is you see in her, it’s definitely not Lara. She’s the pathetic result of a polluted elven bloodline._

Eventually she decided to wait for Avallac'h fulfilling his task that consists of analyzing and working with the Hen Ichaer, the swallow's blood - until he was ready to finally forget about Lara and Cirilla. A selfish thought, she was aware of. But Avallac'h finally had to get free of Lara's invisible chains. She feared he would lose himself, his reputation and honour because of Cirilla who had awoken something unfamiliar in the Elven sage. The elf woman, truly upset, realized she couldn't stop him, couldn't drag him away from Cirilla's enticing presence and personality. And that made her own pure elven blood boil, stirring up the hate towards humen and especially Cirilla herself even more.

Even though he knew his obsession seemed to be somewhat unhealthy to a certain degree, he just couldn't give up. It wasn't Lara crossing his thoughts anymore, but Cirilla herself. The little d'hoine he despised so much because it reminded him of his own failure. His failure to protect Lara, her blood, their forgotten lost love.

They were meant to be a couple a long time ago. A family even.

Avallac'h had opened his heart to Cirilla in a moment of trust when they were trapped in a house in Tedd Deireadh, a world wiped out by the white frost on their way to a portal. He suddenly remembered Cirilla's words there ringing in his pointy ears, words spoken by this foul human mouth, yet it was the blatant and painful truth. She told him that he had to stop pitying himself, stop crying about some woman who dumped him for another guy. Her bluntness hurt him and reminded Avallac’h of the time in Tir na Lia where he forced Cirilla to sleep with the King of the Elder folk. He was furious when she opened his wound in a spicy provocation.

_Maybe it would be easier and less time-consuming if you hand her out to Eredin. You both share the same goal after all, no? Seriously now, your little cat and mouse game is merely a dick-measuring contest. Don’t tell me you’re worried about a human. She’s just a tool and Eredin knows how to use it._

His fingers clenched the fabric of his robe. Avallac’h clearly remembered her spiteful words when she talked about Cirilla.

Observing the charcoal portrait, Avallac'h felt a stinging pain rushing through his chest. This wasn't what he was searching for, not the thoughts he needed right now. His own fear that ruled him through the years, the helpless efforts to find a way to save his ethnicity; Cirilla was nothing more than a tool to fulfill his task.

_Nothing more…_

_Nothing more..._

An eerie silence surrounded him. The more he repeated those words, the more they lost their significance. It was suddenly cold inside the chamber of old elven ruins. So cold like his aquamarine eyes staring into the flickering candle lights. Avallac’h slowly traced the curves and outlines of Cirilla's soft facial features with his index finger, smearing a bit of charcoal onto his skin.

She was his only hope. Not only for the Elder folk, saving their world from the White Frost, but also the last hope to save himself. From the painful memories, from the thoughts of Lara herself which kept his own heart in a prison, unable to move forward into the future.

_A tool._

The d'hoine he hated so much; at least that was what he believed. After all he was, like all of the Aen Elle, raised and manipulated to see humans as inferior, as unworthy slaves from the day they were born. Cirilla was no exception to Eredin. But Cirilla was different to Avallac’h. The more time he had spent in the world of the Aen Seidhe, the more he got used to them - not only in a negative matter which surprised him. And his many journeys with Cirilla proved him that he felt attached to her in a way he would have never expected.

_I hope Zireael will fulfill her calling and survive._

_Who cares if she survives. You are aware that Tir na Lia’s doom is merely a stone’s throw away. All because you keep hiding this...this girl from our King. Even Ge’els said you are wasting time._

_I won’t let Eredin have her, no matter what you or anyone of the authorities think. His intentions aren’t as pure as you might believe, trust me._

Right now this uncertain feeling came back, combined with one of those rare moments when he felt honest attraction towards a woman. When they both were trapped in this unknown futuristic world for half a year and got to know themselves better, Cirilla dared to ask him about very private matters. On the other hand, Avallac'h watched her in his sleep several times, mostly when she requested physical contact which he certainly denied on all occasions - much to his remorse, since he eagerly enjoyed her company.

He couldn't consider a female human attractive though, despite his intentions. It was strictly against his attitude, his heritage, his origin and race.

But the mere thought of Cirilla suddenly let his thoughts drifting away into different spheres, completely against his mindset. It was his fragile, old, broken heart that took over his rational will.

 _Zireael...don’t do this to me…,_ he whispered into the dark air, blinking at the portrait through tired but longing eyes.

Avallac'h couldn't remember the last time allowed to gain a little bit of relaxing pleasure as his need for sexual contact basically shut off when Lara died. Getting excited and interested into other elves turned out to be nearly impossible. Before he went off with Cirilla, the Elf woman from Tir na Lia was his only bedfellow right after Lara's death. She supported him to get over with mourning and grief, even though she wasn't the most patient woman in his life. But looking back to Cirilla's portrait, the filthy, abrasive d'hoine, the child of the Elder blood sent more than hot waves of fury and lust to his brain and heart. She looked so much like Lara, shared many of her features, but she was so different at the same time, it truly bothered him. Cirilla's piercing green eyes appeared in front of his face as she was staring right into his own light blue orbs, her black war paint eye shadow partly smeared across her cheek, her full lips kiss-swollen. She smelled like steel, leather with a gentle trace of blood and sweat covered by a hidden, enticing, honey-sweet scent that numbed out his senses when she spread her thighs slightly and climbed up into his lap. A specific human pheromone that Avallac'h shouldn't find sexually attractive in any way, yet he couldn't help but give into it.

And suddenly he was drawn even closer to Lara than ever. Relating to her never felt so easy.

Despite her unique powers, Cirilla was just a human. A filthy, primitive and coarse d'hoine. She wasn't meant to arouse him at all. Yet Cirilla invaded his heart and mind much quicker than he could escape from her charming seduction.

Avallac'h exhaled in a long sigh when the Cirilla of his forbidden imagination raised her warm, naked body against him, her heated skin radiating. The scent got stronger when she leaned in and started to kiss the cool, white skin of his slender neck with gentle bites. Her weight pressed down on his slightly trembling thighs and her lips curved into a dirty smile, a pair of small flat breasts softly rubbing against his chest.

He knew he should have kept his distance. His efforts to diminish the attraction to Cirilla have been for naught. He had always found her powerful, fascinating, and beautiful.

Avallac'h closed his eyes, shocked by the inappropriate fantasy that invaded his thoughts, and he unfastened the belts on his robe with nervous fingers, still leaning back into the chair, bones and muscles slowly melting into total relaxation when he was revealed to the coldness of the darkened room.

_Forgive me, Zireael..._

The first time after years, decades of inappetence he suddenly felt sensual and greedy, quite responsive to intimate touch. The touch of a human maiden, a “half-breed”, which should've been both humiliating and embarrassing for an Aen Elle like him. But it was his own will, his sexual desire, his sorrow and yearning for true love and validation that visualized Cirilla into his lap, pure and so unbelievably pretty despite her humanly features. Avallac'h suddenly could feel her hot touch and breath, those tender but strong fingers of a warrior woman tracing him, fondling him with her tongue and lips, and he didn't dare to open his eyes when he gasped softly at the gentle touch he tried to imitate with his hand.

She suckled greedily with a careful pair of lips and the right amount of gentleness, her head moving a few times while his fingers ran through her ashen locks. Cirilla slowly crawled up on him again, her immensely taught body hardly noticeable through his many layers of robes and frustration overthrew him when he lifted his hands to grab her imaginary, curvy hips. Avallac'h wondered if her skin was as soft as it looked like in reality. How many times had he caught himself thinking about just tasting the real Cirilla's uncovered salty neck with his lips after an exhausting battle, sticking his nose into her sweaty, ash blonde hair and inhaling the female, intoxicating scent while fondling her perfect body, her arms and breasts through her clothes, making her moaning his name?

The Elven sage let his head fall back with a suppressed groan when a wave of pleasure rushed through him, tight and vibrant, pooling in his lower abdomen. Avallac'h knew Cirilla shared these unfulfilled wanton desires and needs with him, this lascivious fantasy of touching, kissing, surrendering to one's carnal desires, but neither of them dared to make such a huge step, afraid of crossing each others personal boundaries.

They were both obsessed with each other in the same way, they shared the same dream  
of finding true love, yet their duties and tasks, their tedious situation, their origins and race didn't allow them to act on their mutual conflicted feelings.

Cirilla in his imagination wasn't real and his fantasy was considered sick, unhealthy wishful thinking. Avallac'h knew at best it was morally wrong for an Aen Elle to find the human race attractive. Lara Dorren committed the same error when she fell in love with a powerful human mage which lead to her demise. His Elven race would accuse him of immoral perversion, maybe even want to kill him for developing feelings for a human, but he couldn't have cared less. There was no way of going back anyway, no way of giving up his feelings and hopes for Cirilla.

_Zireael…_

Avallac'h pressed his lips together in agitation, his body shuddering under the robes, responding to the inappropriate touches and images in his head, and he was too wrought-up in his sexual fantasy.

Cirilla came closer, kissed him again, sat herself down, engulfing him with her full weight and she began to move her hips in a soft pace - erratic, inexperienced but passionate nonetheless. Her tensed body crushed against him, arms throwing around his neck, her sweet voice crying out his name in uttar arousal when she clenched around him, pushing him deeper. Her nails dug into his sensitive back, her perky breasts bouncing up and down right in front of his face with every unsteady movement…

_Zireael...Zireael..._

It didn't take long.

All concerns and complicated feelings washed away for a few seconds when he deeply moaned her name in Ellylon against the cool, dusty ceilings of his laboratory. Avallac'h couldn't hold back a grunt, followed by a curse coming straight from his tight throat as the spasmic rush took him.

When he opened his eyes again a few moments later, breathing heavily, Cirilla's warm body was gone from his mind. Solitude overwhelmed him, harshly, when he came back to his senses.

It was too silent, too lonely. The unusual strong orgasm had left him there in a mix of uncertain feelings, regret even. He desperately wanted to cuddle, felt the need to press Cirilla against him, snuggling up to her, telling her so many things at once...but the room was cool and he was alone.

Avallac'h only saw the portrait of her on his lap. A few sticky stains had soaked the paper as well as a part of his robe and he sighed in relief when he noticed the mess, shamefully so. He wiped off a trail of sweat from his brow and wetness from his shadowy eyes with the back of his gloved hand, falling back, waiting for his pulse and breath to calm down.

It was merely a second after he had cleaned himself up when hot tears suddenly blurred his vision.

Tears of confusion and shame, of fear and guilt. He hadn’t cried for quite some time, believing he had no right or reason to. Elven sages were meant to be reserved and pragmatic, to keep their feelings to themselves. Maybe he was an exception. Just like her. Just like Cirilla was exceptional to him.

Before the upcoming fatigue could lay its hands on him, Avallac’h grabbed the sheet of paper from one of his books and put some supplies into a bag. Cirilla needed the potion quickly and he had to go back before she would notice his absence. For a moment he thought about bringing her here to treat her fever in a more comfortable area but the fact that someone from Tir na Lia was observing his hidden laboratory anytime could certainly have been dangerous for Cirilla. Eredin probably even knew about this secret laboratory for sure.

Avallac’h saw her sleeping figure on a pile of old rags after his return. She looked so vulnerable in her sleep, her body warm and restless against him when he lifted her to make her drink.

Maybe one day they will finally be free of their burden, their destiny, free of emotional confliction.

Until then he would stay with her. Always.


End file.
